Closed Voyage to Akvatar Isle

[Nightmare]

89th of Spring, 515 AV

The wind shifted and brought the scent of the sea, Laviku's domain across the city of Syliras. It funneled into the hallways with a faint whistle and brought a brief reprieve of the oppression of humanity that dominated the city. It carried with it the promise of cleansing and life. For it is by Laviku's mercy that the people of the world could survive such as they did after the great cataclysm. It was held in a promise, of opportunity, of potential. It was understood that His mercy extended to that day.

Thus it was no small portion of gratitude by the sailors coming to port in Syliras, or those giving tribute to Laviku before they headed out to brave the Suvan. Svefra lingered in port, their lively ships a beautiful contrast to some of the more sterner sea vessels of the knighthood's protection force or the sleek and smooth merchant vessels that were designed by clever zeltivan shipwrights for speed and reliability. As always, the docks were a busy place, a melting pot for all sea related business and culture.

Utis the Inartan knight frowned as a great bell marked the time. The party to Akvatar Isle was late. He tapped his foot to some internal beat, perhaps a song from his childhood. He gazed impassively as luggage and gear was hauled onto the ship by the burly crew members. Many were Svefra, but the crew was otherwise mixed. Chests of weapons, armor and clothes for the 4 knights and their charges had to be stowed away. Food for the crew and gold mizas for their passage was to be taken aboard as well.

Onboard Utis could hear the bellowing of the captain issuing orders. The man was a decent fellow. He had dealings with the knighthood in the past and could be trusted. Never once did he attempt to swindle the monolithic force for Peace, nor did he bribe or attempt to smuggle goods into Syliras. His character was such that he did not harass his crew by naming them terrible things like some captains and their first mates might. Luckily they had time. The ship was to leave at midbell, when the sun, sea and wind were scheduled to be at its highest.

The knight slipped a rolled up piece of parchment from his belt and studied it. The route from Syliras to riverfall was well documented and fairly accurate. But this particular map was not accurate beyond that. Likely the captain had better cartographical sources on his ship. They would be putting their safety in the skilled hands of the captain and his crew. Something of faith, he supposed.

He tucked the parchment away as some of his party strolled up. "Well met. I hope you brought something to entertain yourselves. This journey will be a long one." He said in a low, amused tone. The man specifically brought along a deck of cards. Perhaps he could get away with some gambling with the crew. "We will be setting sail shortly. Captain says we are free to get settled in now." The older gentleman surveyed his audience with a bit of a frown. "Just don't get in the crew's way."

[Aventis]

This whole thing had been a complete surprise for Aventis. He had woken up this morning with no idea what today would entail. Of course, he had woken up in the early bells of the morning, and had woken by none other than the grayed knight who had promptly dragged him to the docks of Syliras, an area where he had seldom visited, given lack of reason. He did not know where they were going or why Utis hadn’t already boarded the ship, though he accurately chalked it up to waiting for more of his crew.

It was later, now, most likely around the seventh bell. Utis had paced most of that morning, not revealing motive or reason, while Aventis had learned not to ask questions much anymore. So he had found a quiet nook off upon some crates about five or six feet away from where Utis stood, where he sat and quietly watched the early clouds roll by, absentmindedly playing with the pommel of his rapier at his side.

The air was warm, and comfortable. It made the cloak that Aventis had wrapped around himself feel like a blanket, it was nice. The salty breeze from the ocean nearby whistled a tune too complex for Aventis’ recognition, but he enjoyed it anyway. The waves gently lapping against the ships and the dock itself was lulling, and the squire had found it difficult to stay awake. He knew he couldn’t fall asleep, that was common sense, but it was enticing.

He closed his eyes, for but a moment, to just enjoy the sunlight and the breeze, preparing for what he knew was going to happen. Or, what he presumed. Utis was a curious knight, who often kept to himself and only got involved with those that benefit his plans, which was no doubt a quality the Knighthood respected, seeing as he got permission to do whatever it is he was going to do, which, admittedly, Aventis wasn’t quite sure of. You could never guess with that man.

“Well met.” He heard the knight say, most likely addressing an associate. Aventis lazily opened his eyes and glanced at the crowd of people.

“We will be setting sail shortly,” was the next thing the four armed squire heard. He had been observing the crowd loosely and found nothing of interest, so he promptly turned around and walked towards the ship, ready to board.

This little quest better bring him back to Syliras.

[Alexander Ross]

Alexander Ross With a rather wide yawn, Alexander squinted against the sunlight, a slight but noticeable churning feeling in his gut. Not getting much sleep was something the nineteen-year-old was used to, but the night before was just ridiculous beyond comprehension. The entire night he had been unable to keep his eyes closed for more than five minutes at a time, thoughts of this trip buzzing about in his head and keeping it as active as an overworked hornets' nest. More than once, he had gotten up out of his bed and paced about the room, and often found that he had been talking to himself. If any of the squires had been awake during that time, they might have doubted his sanity... Not that Alex could really care. And he was sure that everyone in the dormitories had at least some notion that he was not... all there. With a heavy sigh, the boy reached up and rubbed his eyes. There was no doubt in what was left of his mind that a full night without sleep was going to affect him later. Then again, there would always be something that would keep him too busy to fall asleep. At least, he hoped. He closed his eyes for a moment as he felt a salty breeze envelope the dock and gently wash over his body, tousling his shaggy brown hair along with his dark clothing. The gentle waves lapped against the side of the large ship, the sound almost hypnotizing to his ears. "You need colors, lad. Your choice of clothing is just as monotone as your voice." Ser Ranqor Grayne said, shaking his head. This had been an on-going arguement between them for quite some time, but no matter how much Ranqor complained about it, Ross would always stick with his usual attire. "It matches my personality. I'm not going to dress up like a jester only to shrug and walk away when people expect a laugh." The boy would reply with a dismissive turn of his head. Dark clothes for a mysterious personality had always seemed fitting to him. Giving the other knight a polite nod, he yawned once again and approched the ship, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. He had always wanted to travel, but now that the oppertunity had finally come, he could not help but feel nervouse about the whole thing. His patron had told him about the trip beforehand, but what exactly it was for was still just a bit lost to him. All he really knew was that they were trying to find some guy's brother, and that was it. Not even a name was mentioned. I better still be alive and in one piece by the end of this trip. I have a girl to return to... He sighed at the thought of Ayla, and that for the first time in his life, he would have someone waiting for him.

[Vizayas]

The halls of Stormhold Castle near the docks he had known to reek of human filth were instead pleasant this day, filled with the scent of the sea breeze wafting through the halls, blowing on out the stink of sweat and shyke. It was early in the morning, but Ivan had already woken him hours ago. His patron knight stood in front as they marched towards the docks. Vizayas' thoughts turned to safety, like always. He was trusting, but he wanted to be sure everything would be in his favor if someone betrayed that trust. I should prepare, with my magic. You never know when something might happen.

"Ser Ivan!" Vizayas called out to his patron knight. The man glanced over his shoulder, an expecting look overcoming his face. "Yes, Vizayas?" He said. "We should prepare. To shield you with my talents." Vizayas affirmed, rattling off these words in a bit of an ambiguous way so as not to upset the people busy with their daily lives around him, those that would rather not hear of such things from anyone. Of course, to him the words seemed a bit awkward.

"When we get outside." Ivan said, coordinating. They kept walking, navigating through the throng of people illuminated by torch light. After awhile, a wall of light appeared before them, and soon they were outside as the both of them adjusted to the white affixed upon their eye balls for a few ticks. The two looked for a place that was out of the line of sight to many. There was a dirty old path between two warehouses nearby, and they both saw it at the same time. With a nod to one-another, they headed straight for it.

Vizayas and Ivan stood in the center of the alley. "Alright," Ivan said. "Make it quick if you can." He had a slight, a reassuring one. Vizayas hoped he hadn't ticked him off, but he thought he made the right call. It seemed only right to use his Shielding magic to prepare, but perhaps he should have asked a bit sooner when they weren't on a deadline. "I apologize for the impromptu actions on my part. I'll remember to do this earlier in the morning when we have time to plan around it." Vizayas was just really bad at planning, but Ivan seemed to be easy when it came to forgiving rookie mistakes.

"I'll get right to it then." Vizayas said. Closing his eyes, his mind instantly became a little more well known with the loss of a single sense. He stood with his back straight, focusing on expanding the emptiness within his mind into becoming a clear conscious, to know and to impart the magic of Shielding. He took a long, drawn out deep breath, his chest rising with the expansion of his lungs. Then, as his will brought his essence to the foray, he tugged on it eternally. A sort of gas formed in his lungs, mixed in with the air. It was magic gas, the best kind of gas.

While it was still in his body, he began to task it. He deliberated on what to task it with for a brief moment - it was always tasked against magic in general, but he could choose something specific like piercing or cutting weaponry. At last, he held within his mind the picture of a club. He imagined what it would feel like to get hit with one, the round object impacting the skin. With that familiar tugging feeling mixed in with his action, he exhaled. The magic came out in a dense fog, tasked against blunt instruments, which he was able to will to roughly encompass Ivan and surround him.

Then, with one last stroke of his will, he forced the fog to congeal into a thin layer wrapping itself around Ivan, from head to toe. It was a hastily crafted shield, and Vizayas knew it wouldn't hold up to a sustained assault. He felt confident about it though, that it would deflect at least a blow to the back of the head. A would-be knight-napper would think twice when Vizayas was around!

Ivan arched an eyebrow at Vizayas. "I'm guessing you're finished, then?" He said. Vizayas confirmed this with a nod. "You can finish up with yourself later, we need to reach the boat. Let's go." With that, Ivan began to walk out of the alleyway. To Vizayas, the man looked like he was covered in a pearly sheen. Vizayas liked that look, it was kind of pretty. Few others shared the sight, it was his own little illusion.

"Agreed." Vizayas said in response to helping himself later. Shielding used to be so taxing on himself for a full-body shield, but things were changing. He was getting more and more used to using his magic. As they walked, Vizayas finally noticed the warm air - Summer was approaching. His fur mantle wouldn't be the best choice of outfit anymore. He knew he should take it off at some point during the day.

"I'm assuming I'll be briefed on what we're doing later on?" Vizayas asked, the light tap of wooden boards underneath his feet familiar to him. Ivan didn't turn his head, but he did respond. "Maybe, Vizayas. Best not to ask any questions unless you're asked. Things are kept secret for a reason." Ivan's words seemed to make sense for Vizayas. He decided to keep that in mind, for the future. However, it helped to know what they were dealing with ahead of time.

Then, the ship came into view as Ivan silently pointed it out with a directing finger. Vizayas could tell it wasn't a war ship, which surprised him. People walked up and down the plank, carrying supplies. At least two people who weren't laborers stood out, gazing upon the ship from the docks. "Ah, Ser Ranqor." Ivan said towards the one who looked to be a knight, with a bit of gusto in his voice. He made sure to speak loudly enough so that Vizayas could hear. So, this knight's name was Ser Ranqor. He was surprised, with how many knights there were that Ivan would recognize one of them.

Ivan then turned to the ship, bringing his hands up to his mouth to create a cone shape so as to direct his voice. "Ser Ivan, Ser Ranqor, Squire Vizayas, Ranqor's squire. Permission to board?" He hollered. Apparently, he didn't know the name of Ranqor's squire. Hopefully the able-looking squire didn't feel left out, though at a glance Vizayas could tell the squire looked to be overcome with a bit of laze today. If they were going on a voyage, he would likely be expanding his social circle quite a bit in such close quarters. Maybe he was a potential future friend?

[Isolde Seibold]

"And now why don't we go... this way?" Lady Freed asked, spinning on her toe and heading down yet another alley. Not for the first time, Isolde wondered how it was that her Sera could dance around like that in such heavy armor. So far the Nuit had two theories.

The first one was that the Konti was exceptionally strong, despite the fact that her slim frame didn't show it. Her Lady had a nice amount of muscle --as did every knight-- but she didn't appear to have anything more than was usual, and instead of having the heavy-packed form of most --made for stomping and swinging-- she had a lithe, wiry frame made for never-ending motion, which she demonstrated now as she jounced merrily down the street.

As the lady knight trotted along --Isolde having learned to walk faster than normal to keep up-- she waved hello to anyone nearby who looked her way, her clacking armor ringing with an oddly bell-like tone tone and thus drawing a lot of attention. Today, however, the knight didn't stop to exchange pleasantries with the city folk, as she might normally have done on such a patrol. Isolde decided that whatever it was they were doing it must be something pretty important for her Sera not to stop and greet the citizens.

The other theory concerning the armor was that Tenna Freed was just too overwhelmingly positive to be held down by anything, let alone several dozen pounds of protective metal.

"Aaand this way!" the knight announced, trundling into a turn so sharp that Isolde nearly ran herself into a wall trying to compensate for the sudden change in direction. Perhaps her Sera couldn't be bothered to feel the weight of her armor, but Isolde could. And that was just with a thin layer of chain mail and some leather. They'd decided that it was best for the Nuit --who was weaker than most living people-- to don the light armor of the knights.

'Light' armor. Yes. That. Despite having started wearing it pretty early in the season, Isolde didn't know if she'd ever actually get used to the burden. It was a good thing she was a mage squire. Magics didn't typically require fast movement, and neither did the bow or the throwing daggers that Lady Freed had decided they'd work with, though the quarterstaff --an ambitious project her Sera had wanted to start her on in the near future-- probably would.

That was another thing strange about this morning, besides her Sera being in an actual hurry. They were wearing full armor and outfitted with all of their weaponry. Lady Freed hadn't had anything else on her, but she'd told Isolde to bring anything that she could not be without for the foreseeable future. So the Nuit had her backpack slung over her shoulders, full of the usual assortment of supplies. It was as they made yet another turn --this one thankfully not as bad as the last-- that her Lady announced, "We're here," and Isolde realized that this morning's patrol was more than a patrol. It was a farewell.

They were at the docks. The scent of the morning sea brushed the Nuit's hair back and her Sera's before her. The knight held out a hand for them to continue forward, and together they marched towards a large group of people standing nearby an even larger ship.

Instead of stopping by to make proper introductions, however, Lady Freed swept through them, tipping her head and smiling while Isolde trailed awkwardly behind. Once she was past the majority of the group, and despite the fact that they themselves appeared to be quite late, Tenna said, "Hmm. I wonder what they're all waiting for? Up on the ship!" The Nuit ducked her head and scrambled up the plank-thing and onto the deck, sudden nerves jolting through her.

They were going on a ship. They were leaving Syliras. Isolde hadn't been outside the city --like really outside, like more than the Bronze Woods outside-- in years and years. She couldn't hardly even remember what it was like not to be in the Syliran area. And she had never, never been on a ship.

"Lady Freed..."

Before she could get out any questions or doubts, her patron knight clapped her on the shoulder, dragging her closer as if to noogie the Nuit on the head like a child, though she only ended up looping her arm carelessly around the dead woman's neck. "Wow, Isolde," she said, grinning so brightly that her squire couldn't help but wince, "Look at this! You're green with excitement already! Isn't this going to be a fun trip!"

[Iskessah]

Iskessah stirred restlessly, but did not wake. She was troubled by nightmares, made more of memory than fear. After so long imprisoned on the lake city, she had finally found her way back to the nest, which she had constantly felt pulling at her, for her entire life. She had thought, once she made it home, everything would be fine. But her time away had changed her too much. The other dhani had looked on her with the derision she often reserved for pretty much everyone else. She had tried to find a place within the nest, but it was no use. So, after a time, she had ventured away from the nest, willingly this time, and wandered aimlessly, with no real goal in mind but to pass her days as pleasantly as possible. At length, she had found her way to Syliras, a place she had briefly been once before, and a symbolic balm as the place which was the sworn enemy of the lake city which had changed her so. She spent her days and nights in the company of anyone she could coerce into taking her to their beds, trying to drown her sorrows in the pleasures of base companionship. The latest of these conquests was a sailor, who had suggested they commingle on the ship which employed him. Iskessah had agreed to this whim, having been on a ship once before and not finding the soft rolling and bobbing not entirely unpleasant. Of course, what the sailor failed to tell her was that the ship was due to set sail the next day. Iskessah would normally never allow herself to be captured thus, but she had been keeping irregular hours of late, and with no one to rouse her, she slept right through the bustle of the loading ship.

[Orin Fenix]

In a weird, backhanded way Orin was about to get everything he'd been yearning for this past season. He had, indeed, wanted to travel, see the world, and meet new people. He'd wanted to discover what was out there waiting for him. He'd wanted to sample the local cuisines to become inspired for his own work. And he was going to get to do all that and more. Orin had just kind of been hoping that he'd get to do it all under his own power rather than the whims of the ship's captain. As a ship's cook it was true he'd be out there exploring. But he'd also be mostly confined to a ship, belowdecks, with no opportunity to even look at the passing countryside. So it was a bittersweet victory. Orin squared his shoulders though. He was determined to make the most of whatever he was given.

Part of his melancholy stemmed from the past few days. They had not been even marginally fun. It had kicked off with Orin getting fired or quitting from The Rearing Stallion, depending on whose account you wanted to listen to. Regardless, Orin and Rondo had finally had the blow-up row that had been lurkibg since the day Orin had walked into the tavern's kitchen. They'd both said some ugly words to each other and the result had left Orin jobless. That hadn't been a good beginning to this whole sequence of events.

The gods weren't done laughing at Orin yet. The night Orin had walked out had ended with Sylvette and Orin in The Herald's Arms. A man had tried to accost Sylvette and Orin, though he tried being polite at first, wouldn't suffer that indignity to his bondmate. He'd finally snapped, and attacked the man, intending just to scare him off. Instead, the result had been an epic bar brawl where Orin and Sylvette had both gotten hurt. To add insult to that injury Orin had spent the night incarcerated and been forced to pay a fine for damages. Orin had paid it without complaint even though he didn't really see himself as responsible for the incident. Yesterday morning Orin had stepped out of the clutches of the Syliran Order and immediately sprinted down to the Bulletin Board. He'd scoured it for jobs. Unfortunately it appeared no one was hiring. Orin next had gone to the few other taverns that he felt he would still be welcome at but Rondo had beaten Orin to it and they had regretfully informed Orin there was no space in their kitchens.

It had been desperation that had finally driven Orin to the docks. He'd remembered that Crest, the handsome young Svefra who plagued Orin's dreams had mentioned good ship's cooks were always welcome. There, Orin had finally gotten some good luck. As it turned out quite a large ship had recently lost its cook. The captain hadn't seemed to want to get into details and Orin hadn't asked for for fear of losing this job opportunity. The only problem was that the ship had been setting sail the next day, today now. Orin had most of the day before at the Housing Office arranging for the sail of his apartment, only making a few stops to wrap up his other affairs. After that, Orin had packed up the meager possessions that made up his life. It had actually been a bit sad.

This morning Orin was up at the crack of dawn as was his habit. He'd hurried down to The Rearing Stallion. He'd stormed off without getting his wages and he wanted to not only pick those up but also leave a message for anyone who might come looking for him. Kevith and Remi had been there but thankfully Rondo hadn't shown yet. They'd been sympathetic and offered to try and smooth things over with Rondo but Orin had been adamant that he wanted nothing more to do with the irritable chef. Then, he was off to see exactly what his new life had in store for him.

When he'd arrived it had still been relatively early in the morning. The crew had been doing mysterious tasks involving ropes and the planks and the sails. Orin prayed he'd been able to pick up a bit of nautical knowledge so he didn't look like a complete dunce. The captain had dispatched the first mate who'd taken him down to the ship's kitchen. "Sure hope you know what you're doing because we certainly don't. All you need to know is that these supplies will have to last us until we make landfall. Oh and you'll have to brew up a new batch of grog." With a cheery wave the first mate left Orin to survey his new domain but not without pressing a key into Orin's Palm.

Orin had started with an inventory of everything the kitchen possessed. He soon discovered that the key was for the liquor cabinet. Apparently Orin was in charge of rationing it out. That was a scary thought. Orin knew sailors certainly liked their alcohol. The kitchen also possessed a sleeping area for Orin. Obviously he was meant to stay here as often as possible. The quality of the food was appalling but that wasn't exactly surprising. There was a lot of smoked and salted meat, travel bread, and a whole host of other foodstuff that would keep for a long time. Orin would just have to figure out a way to make it all palatable. He'd probably start off by cooking the food that would spoil first then move on to the hardier fair. There were also the all important lemons. While Orin knew the theory behind grog making, he'd never done it before. It certainly didn't seem like a good time to bring that up though. Orin would just figure it out as he went.

Getting a bit antsy at the cooped up feel Orin went to get his last breath of fresh air. Emerging above deck after only getting lost a few times below decks, Orin picked his way over to the railing. With the city to his back Orin gazed out to sea. The sun warmed his back and sparkled on the waves that undulated up and down in the distance. It was a great unknown to Orin. He breathed in the scent of brine and freedom as his face was bathed in spray. A sea breeze sprang up and seemed to caress Orin before moving on to the city. It felt wonderful up here and Orin let his cares and worries drift off on the tide. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Turning to examine the activity, Orin spotted a clump of figures on the deck. Shading his eyes against the light, Orin picked out a number of familiar faces. Isolde was there as was Alexander. It took Orin a moment to figure out exactly why his brain was telling him to pay attention. When he did the blood drained from his face and his good cheer disappeared as quickly as it had come. They were all members of the Syliran Order. Orin didn't want to think about why they were all here. Of course he would have ended up on the ship that the Knights were using for some obscure reason. Orin wasn't even aware that they were allowed to go on voyages, let alone depart in such large numbers. Orin would keep his head down until he learned more about the situation.

[Sylvette Sciath]

Placeholder, I swear I'll have me boarding in a day or so, Just gotta graduate first. So yeah. I'll be around